


Thanksgiving

by airandangels



Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: M/M, reliant on headcanon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-28
Updated: 2011-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-20 19:40:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/airandangels/pseuds/airandangels
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Thanksgiving visit between old and new.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Thanksgiving

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Stupid Generations, You Ruin Everything](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/3659) by airandangels. 



> This story is a confection of nonsense inspired by [this headcanon](http://startrekheadcanon.tumblr.com/post/6923093420/stupid-generations-you-ruin-everything). It really has no excuse for existing.
> 
> Oh. And I do have a certain amount of headcanon about Dr McCoy swearing like a trooper at times. And I do tend to see the Chris Pine version of Kirk as a very callow young man - he has the potential to grow into something much better, but he's still highly immature, so I tend to write him as a jerk sometimes. I mean, he did respond to a confession of love with 'That is so weird.' Bear with me.

As a white sun rose over the arid landscape of Vulcan Two, James Kirk woke up and rolled out of bed. He let Spock go on sleeping, under the living blanket of sehlat and dog they'd acquired. Advancing age was taking the two of them differently; when they were young it had been Spock who was always up early, doing calisthenics or meditating or otherwise being healthy and virtuous, while he stayed in bed until it was actually time to get up or be late. He'd rather work out later in the day, once the taste of toothpaste had faded. Now he was sleeping less and less, and Spock was sleeping more.  


He could wish other things were reversed too, but Spock was still lean and lanky while he was inclined to chub up, particularly when contented. Not that it really mattered; he was in good health and the only other person whose opinion counted liked him fine, while the only person who would still hassle him for it lived in another universe.  


Minnie, the smallest of the dogs, woke when he pushed himself off the bed and slipped down to patter at his heels as he scuffed into slippers, pulled on his bathrobe and shuffled down to the kitchen to start coffee and download the news. Minnie was one of those worried dogs that need to supervise you and make absolutely sure you're okay. When he sat down with his coffee and the news padd she gave a sigh of relief that he wasn't persisting in moving around, and curled up like a doughnut at his feet. She was only a mini-pinscher, so it wasn't a problem to have her butt on his slipper - not like I-Kufu who was four feet high at the shoulder and still thought he was cub-sized.  


One thing that still got him about living in this universe was the way that things looked too modern. Here they were back in the '60s, but this padd looked like something he couldn't have got until the '80s or '90s, and he never quite got over expecting to know the news already. Of course he didn't. There was all kinds of weird stuff; here was a headline about the Cardassian Union, and he hadn't even known what the hell a Cardassian was until he was recuperating with Bones post-thaw. ('Oh, them? Funny-looking sonsabitches, aren't they? They make good booze though, lemme pour you some kanar.')  


It had been weird to see Bones so extremely old, cruising around in a motorised wheelchair these days. It meant a lot to be back with Spock because he was the only one who looked approximately the way he should, give or take a few more grey hairs. That, and he was his other half and life without him would never be complete.  


As usual, he was scanning the headlines for one name, and there it was. _Enterprise. _ Spock had stressed to him how important it was that they not interfere in the lives of these younger, alternate versions of themselves; how they needed the freedom to work out their own paths in life, and shouldn't feel confined or obligated to recapitulate what they themselves had done. That was fine by him, but he was still going to keep tabs on what they were up to. He'd never actually met them, only seen their pictures. Little Jim Kirk, as he thought of him, was a handsome kid - although a touch different from his own old pictures, here and there. Stupid haircut, too, but what could you do.

Spock came downstairs, dogs and sehlats thumping and panting in his wake. He touched Jim's back briefly as he moved past him to make a cup of tea, the kitchen filling with a good-natured press of hairy bodies pushing their wet licky snouts into Jim's hands and robe pockets. 'Good morning.'  


'Morning. Look at this - the kids saved Risa from an outbreak of Spon plague.' He'd fallen into calling them that, since 'we' or 'the other us' didn't feel quite right. It was easier to look on Little Jim as a sort of Jim Junior, even if he didn't feel about him as he'd started to feel about David.  


'Good.' Spock opened the pantry and dragged out the sack of kibble. It was illogical, as he had pointed out, for sehlats to want to eat dog food, but I-Kufu and Mara had become completely convinced that if they didn't get the same food as Minnie, Buzz and Ferdy, they were being deprived and neglected. The diet didn't seem to do them any harm, and they did have unusually glossy coats. 'Something else for your scrapbook,' he remarked as he filled the bowls and the animals clustered around, whining happily and in Mara's case farting with excitement.  


'Baby, I've been thinking.' He had persisted in using this endearment in private, through all Spock's protests that it was profoundly irrational to address one's domestic and sexual partner with an endearment meaning 'infant,' on the grounds that hearts weren't sweet, either, but there were some conventions that were just accepted in lovers' discourse and Spock would have to get used to it. After the first five years or so, he thought he had grown to like it. A big part of loving Spock was recognising the things he would never admit, and not needing him to admit them.  


'Hmm?' Spock sat down beside him and sipped his tea. He would be sluggish until after breakfast, but once he was scrubbed, dressed and out the door he would be the alert and ever-reliable elder statesman. A tuft of his hair was sticking up where it had been pressed by the pillow, and Jim found himself smiling fondly at it.  


'Well, it's nearly Thanksgiving on Earth. And I'd say we have some things to be thankful for this year. And it's not as if we have a lot of family here, so... why not invite the kids? They'll be in this sector. It'd only be a little detour for them, well within captain's discretion.'  


'When you say the kids, do you still mean our alternate, younger selves?'  


'Not just them. They could bring friends. It'd be nice, I think.'  


'You may be afflicted by melancholy nostalgia. I confess that I had to make a considerable effort not to succumb to that state myself.'  


'Sure, because you thought I was dead and we'd never be together again. Naturally seeing a fresh-faced young version of me, with his whole life ahead of him, stirred up old memories and made you blue.' He laid his hand over Spock's on the tabletop, turned it over and gave it a squeeze. 'No reason for it to affect either of us that way now.'  


'If you are unconcerned, by all means invite them. However, do not complain to me if they decline, as they well may.'  


'It's worth a shot. How's your knee today?'  


'Better since Minnie slept on it,' Spock said, reaching down to rub the little dog's pointed ears. 'She is a very warm animal.'  


'She just wants to love you better. Don't you, Nurse Minnie?' He reached down to Minnie and got his fingers licked. Not a bad start to the day.  


* * *

 

Another James Kirk woke up without the assistance of sunlight, and rolled out of bed without anything like the same stiffness in his back. It was a little sore, but that was only on the surface and due entirely to a rug burn. He dropped to the floor for a few fast push-ups and sit-ups to get the circulation going, then got up, yanked the covers off the bed and gave Bones a good slap on the ass to wake him.

'Sonofabitch!' Bones struck out blindly and punched him in the leg.

'Don't drag my mother into this. Morning!'

'Some people,' Bones grumbled, dragging the covers back over himself, 'would wake a man up with a kiss, or at least a cup of coffee.'

'Ah, don't be such a girl.' Jim sat down beside him and gave his back a brisk rub. 'It's a beautiful day. The sky's black and there are stars everywhere.'

'Why do I keep doing this?' Bones muttered.

'Well, A, you're a horny drunk. B, according to you I give way better head than your ex-wife. C, you have to admit this works for both of us, till something better comes along.'

'Until I remember what an asshole you are in the morning.'

'I'll get you that coffee if you take that back.'

'Okay... you're not an asshole, and you do give pretty good head.'

'I think the man wants _sugar_ in his coffee.'

'Bourbon. Hair of the dog.' Bones sat up and rubbed his face with both hands while Jim went to the food synthesiser.

'Sorry. The hole in the wall doesn't make that, and we drank the last of your Jack last night.'

'God is mocking me, Jim.' Bones accepted the cup and inhaled the steam.

'Maybe a little. You'll live.' He reached across Bones to pick up the padd wedged behind the headboard, and started to look through the morning's messages. 'Huh. That's weird.'

'Love letter? Death threat?'

'You know how I met that old Spock? From another universe? This is from _his_ Jim Kirk. He came over and joined him, he says. They're living on Vulcan Two.'

'Huh. That's nice, I guess.'

'And they want us to come see them for Thanksgiving.'

'That _is_ weird.'

'He sent this message to Spock, too. Our Spock, I mean. We should each bring a friend, he says.'

'Guess you're bringing me, then.'

'Says who?'

'Says your only friend.' Bones looked over Jim's shoulder, resting his chin on it as he read the message on the padd. 'I didn't think Vulcans did Thanksgiving.'

'You're not my only friend. What about Scotty?'

'Well, if you want to split hairs.'

'Maybe I do.'

'Okay, tell Scotty you want to take him to meet future alternate you for Thanksgiving.'

'I think he'd be up for it.'

'You do that then. Say, what's that attachment?' Bones leaned over and poked the screen. 'Aw, he attached a picture of them.'

'And their dogs,' Jim observed. 'And two... catbear things?'

'They are completely and totally gay, aren't they,' Bones said flatly.

'God. Look at his gut. Look at his _hair.'_ Jim winced.

'The man's what, eighty years old? He looks good for eighty.'

'You think that's what I'll look like?'

'No, I think you'll be young, ripped and hot forever.' Bones rolled his eyes, downed the last of his coffee and pushed back the covers. 'A shower and some hot food and I might actually get through today without killing anyone.'

'Want me to scrub your back?' Jim asked hopefully.

'You can start there.'

\--

Toward mid-morning, he ambled over toward Spock's bridge science station and quietly raised the subject of the weird message.

'You got it too?' he asked.

'I did,' Spock replied. 'I would have politely declined, but Lieutenant Uhura was present when I opened the message.'

'Uh-huh. And she liked the idea?'

'Apparently so.'

'Well, I guess we can go. Check on the colony, offer assistance - not that I expect the Vulcans to say yes please, we want help, but it doesn't hurt to offer.' He glanced over at Uhura's comm station, where she sat listening intently to an earpiece, leaning slightly forward, her face half-hidden by the dark fall of her hair. So they were waking up together. He knew he was a jerk about this, and he was working on not caring about it, but it still bugged him sometimes. It wasn't some kind of great love if-I-can't-have-you-I-want-no-other-woman thing, but he knew on some level he was screwing around with Bones because he was disappointed about Uhura, and another guy was easier than a woman at the moment.

'I concur,' Spock said, and Jim had to remind himself for a second that they were still talking about Thanksgiving plans with the old folks.

'Guess I'll RSVP, then.'

\--

  
Spock was trying to stay out of the way while Jim cooked. When 'the kids' accepted the invitation, he had become extremely determined to do the whole Thanksgiving thing thoroughly, ordering in a turkey and various other Earth produce from the nearest human colonies, doing test runs of pumpkin pies and candied yams and garlic smashed potatoes. Spock politely taste-tested anything without meat in it (the potatoes got his best review), and the dogs enthusiastically taste-tested the rest. He thought Jim probably didn't have quite enough to do some days, which was why he went overboard at times. He was making enquiries, quietly, about importing a horse for him, something for his birthday or the approaching Christmas festival. The winter holidays they had spent in Iowa had meant a lot to Jim, and while he had huddled next to the fireplace under blankets and dogs, Jim had gone out riding every day, coming back flushed and windburnt and happy, grabbing him and kissing him to feel him flinch from the ice-cold nose and lips suddenly pressed to his cheek. Without having any sort of serious belief in Christ or any other Earth god, Jim had been an enthusiastic celebrator of Christmas in those years, particularly the mistletoe and wine aspect.

He, Spock, had plenty of work to do, in any case, supervising the development of the colony. The most fraught aspect of it was the reproductive programme. In order to rebuild the Vulcan population, all had agreed it was necessary to suspend some of the cultural norms around childbearing. More fertile women than fertile men had survived the apocalypse, and the judicious use of artificial insemination was intended to ensure that the healthiest possible offspring ensued. The logic of the situation, unfortunately, did not alter the fact that almost everyone concerned was profoundly uncomfortable with reproducing in this way, in some cases without previously meeting the father or mother of the prospective child. Some men appeared to suffer from a species of wounded pride over the fact that their donated semen was selected for fewer inseminations than that of others, despite it being clearly explained that these choices were made purely to produce a robust genetic diversity; men carrying genes that were already over-represented in the existing population simply were not selected as often.

He could have pointed out that he was not complaining that his own potential contribution had been ruled inadmissible because of its dilution (nobody quite had the nerve to call it a taint these days) of human DNA, but he doubted it would have made any impression. In these trying times, emotion was straining the seams of reason. He was having to knock down arguments in favour of creeping forms of eugenics every day.

And while Thanksgiving had its origin in a religion he didn't subscribe to, he approved of the idea in general terms. He saw no reason to thank a god or providential force that he didn't believe in for the good things in his life, but he still felt grateful for them, and in a busy life it became easy to focus on all one's problems and challenges and to overlook how fortunate one really was. He was profoundly grateful that he was able to go home to Jim and their pets, and fall asleep blanketed by their affection. The sexual aspect of their relationship surfaced with less frequency and intensity than it had when they were younger men, but it was still there, and in his opinion profoundly satisfactory. Neither his back nor his knees could have withstood the kind of thing they used to get up to, so he was also grateful that Jim felt the same way. He was even grateful for being called by foolish pet-names like Baby and Sweetheart, though it quietly amused him that Jim called the dogs Baby and Sweetheart too, particularly Minnie, who was also Little Girl, Pretty Girl, Nurse Minnie and Scootsie Poo, because of her tendency to drag her hindquarters across the floor when they itched.

Everything, then, was pretty good, and perhaps one day they would settle their longstanding disagreement about how best to arrange the bookshelves, and perhaps they never would. He did take advantage of Jim being occupied in the kitchen to put his Hornblower novels into chronological order, being privately convinced that he would notice the superiority of this arrangement the next time he reread them.

\--

  
Jim, Bones, Spock and Uhura beamed down to the surface together. Spock, for reasons best known to himself, had chosen to wear his uniform, although the rest of them had assumed it was a civvies occasion. Jim had been considering wearing a sweater with a turkey on it just to be a troll, until he checked the weather data for the day. Hot and dry. Accordingly, he'd stuck to jeans and a teeshirt. Bones, on the other hand, seemed to have thought that a Thanksgiving invitation required a degree of dressing up, and had shown up in an off-white linen suit with, to Jim's slight amazement, an actual bolo tie. Uhura had chosen a long floaty orange dress with spaghetti straps and a scooped back, which Jim had a feeling she was regretting as too sexy, from the way she kept pulling her yellow wrap on, then taking it off a few minutes later when she got too hot.

Scotty had put them down on the main plaza of the capital, from which they walked to the white house on a hill flying the UFP flag, as described in the response to their RSVPs.

'Not bad,' Bones remarked, hands in pockets as he looked up at the house. 'Not saying I'd retire here myself, but it's a pretty house.' He flicked a look at Jim. 'Look like something you'd pick out?'

Jim shrugged and scratched his nose.

'Maybe their Spock picked it out,' Uhura said. 'What are we going to call them, face to face? If I say "Spock," I'm thinking you.' She was holding Spock's arm as they walked together.

'I believe "sir" would be appropriate for both of them,' Spock said.

'I'm just glad they don't have alternate versions of all of us in there,' she said with a nervous laugh.

'But then we could see how you'll look as a wrinkly old lady,' Jim said sweetly.

'I'd rather be surprised, Jim,' she said equally sweetly.

'Just 'cause you're going to call the old guy "sir" doesn't mean you can't call me "Captain".'

'Don't be a jackass, Jim. It's a holiday.' Bones swung the gate open and started up the path to the house. There was a deep 'wurf!' from behind the house, and the next moment two large Dobermann pinschers appeared, running around the corner of the building and towards Bones. He betrayed his current appearance of a Southern gentleman of the old school by exclaiming 'Motherfucker!' and vaulting back over the gate, which had swung shut behind him. The two dogs hit the gate a second later, leaping up against it on their hind legs, barking fiercely.

The front door of the house opened, and a tall, lanky figure emerged and shouted 'Buzz! Ferdy! Down!' The elder Spock descended the path to the gate, where the two dogs fawned around him until he calmed them each with a light touch on top of their heads.

'My apologies, Doctor,' he said, nodding to Bones, who was trying to brush the reddish dust off the seat of his pants. 'Jim's dogs are markedly territorial. If you come back in, I will introduce you and they should be all right.'

'Thanks,' Bones said sheepishly. He had been about to ask how elder-Spock knew who he was, before remembering that of course he could tell.

'Please, come in,' elder-Spock said, opening the gate. They walked through cautiously. The dogs were obviously confused by the younger Kirk and Spock, wagging their hindquarters politely but whining in puzzlement.

'We smell similar, but not identical,' Spock observed, offering his hand to them to sniff. He looked up at a sound from the house, and they all saw a shambling bear-like shape coming down the path. Just for a moment, his eyes lit up with delight before he resumed his composure.

'That's I-Kufu,' elder-Spock said. 'He looks like I-Chaya, doesn't he? I was surprised by the resemblance.' The sehlat joined them and leaned companionably against his master, snorting.

'He doesn't have a chipped tooth,' Spock said. He crouched and held his hands out to the beast, shuffling closer to tousle its great jowls.

'What _is_ that thing?' Bones asked, in tones of horrified fascination.

'A Vulcan teddy-bear,' said elder-Spock, with a trace of a smile.

'Good God, man, that thing's got six-inch fangs!'

'Sehlats are valued pets in many Vulcan families, Doctor, noted for their loyalty and protective nature. Mothers allow their small children to play under the sehlat's supervision with perfect peace of mind. An apt parallel might be - yes. Nana the dog, in J.M. Barrie's _Peter Pan and Wendy. ' _He slapped the sehlat's flank and it gurgled appreciatively.

'Here, Nyota - let him scent you.' Spock guided her to crouch beside him and offer her hands to the snuffling animal before rubbing its ears.

'You had one of _these_ as a kid?' she asked, widening her eyes at his nod. 'I mean, you told me, but I imagined something a little more Winnie-the-Pooh.'

'Less slobbery?' Jim suggested, looking at the puddle collecting on the ground under the sehlat's chin.

'Hence the comparison to a Newfoundland dog,' elder-Spock said. 'Do not be alarmed, Captain. Sehlats are gentleness itself unless they sense a threat to their families.'

'Hey, can I pet it?' Bones asked unexpectedly.

'Let him smell your hands first,' Spock warned him. 'Then pet.'

'Hey fella. Hey, boy. You're a good teddy, aren'tchoo. Aren'tchoo.' Bones received a slavering lick across his face for his endearments. Jim hung back with the dogs, which were very interested in smelling his crotch.

'We have two,' elder-Spock said. 'The other, Mara, is in the kitchen hoping to catch scraps. Jim would have come out to greet you too, but he is fully engaged in the preparation of today's feast. Come up to the house and I will introduce you all. There is another dog, too.'

The interior of the house was quite cool and shady by comparison with the outdoors. Uhura drew her wrap around her shoulders with a smile. Elder-Spock led them along a corridor, through a pleasantly cluttered living-room and into a combined kitchen and dining area where the elder Kirk was just closing the oven door and stripping off his oven mitts. Jim tried not to wince at the sight of him. He was so fat and pink and _jolly_ and wearing a novelty oilcloth apron with 'KISS THE CAPTAIN' printed across the chest. And an old teeshirt with 'Go climb a rock' on the chest of  that. He was glad his own tee was plain white with no dorky slogans. There were another, smaller sehlat and a miniature pinscher lurking under the kitchen table.

'Kids!' Kirk said with a smile. 'It's great to see you. To meet you!' He hurried over and took Uhura's hand, dotting a kiss on the back of it. 'Miss Uhura, it's a very great pleasure. Forgive an old man his familiarity, won't you? You look lovely.'

'Thank you, sir,' she said, colouring up a little. 'I'm very pleased to meet you, too.'

'Bones!' Kirk went on, turning to the doctor and grabbing him in a bear hug. 'Damn, you look good! What happened to your eyes, though?'

'Nothing,' Bones said, surprised. 'Why, what are they like on your side?'

'Blue. Big and blue.'

'There are multiple small differences in phenotype between our younger alternates and ourselves, Jim,' elder-Spock put in. 'Even, perhaps, in genotype, though I have not had the opportunity to make a comparison.'

'That's pretty interesting. Our alternates in the other mirror universe were the spitting image, give or take a beard or a scar. Don't worry about it, Bones - brown eyes suit you too.'

'Maybe we switched somehow,' Bones suggested. 'Jim's eyes are blue, but yours are what, hazel?'

'Now that is strange,' Kirk said, turning to consider his younger double. 'I wonder what else is different? Can you wiggle your ears, kid?'

'No.'

'Neither can I. Oh well. And you, obviously, are Spock. You didn't have to wear your uniform, son. Heck, if you want to change, you're in the right place to borrow some clothes that will fit. I don't think this guy has gained a pound since he was thirty.'

'Thank you, but I am comfortable as I am.'

'You're sure? Okay. Spock, take the kids through to the living room and give them a drink. I'm nearly done here. The dirty work's over, I just have to go clean up and change.'

_'The kids,'_ Bones mouthed at Jim as they followed the elder Spock back to the living room. He set them up with drinks while the dogs seethed and bustled around, managing to seem far more than three in their busyness. It seemed that sleek black-and-tan bodies were everywhere, long pointy snouts sniffing and bobtailed butts wiggling. Jim had to admit he thought the dogs were pretty cute. The little one, Minnie, scrabbled her way into his lap and curled up nose to tail.

'Aw,' said Uhura, 'she thinks you're her daddy.' He gave her a sharp look but she didn't seem to be making fun of him. She was sitting on the floor with Spock, using the recumbent I-Kufu as a cushion to lean on. Spock looked pretty happy, with a little Mona Lisa smile. Bones was talking earnestly to the elder Spock about bourbon, explaining that 'branch' couldn't be just any old water. He looked around the living room, looking, he guessed, for evidence of his own personality. It should be easy enough to tell which things were the old fart's. There was a big 3D chess set, so that must be Spock's. Buttloads of books, presumably mostly Spock's too, although he wouldn't think a Vulcan would have all the James Bond books, plus all the Horatio Hornblowers. He wasn't sure who was reading all the Greek mythology and epics. Was _Gilgamesh and Enkidu_ Greek? He was pretty sure it was pretty gay, either way.

There was a big painting of whales over the fireplace that was supremely gay, in his opinion. He wasn't even sure why he kept focusing in on this. It was just so weird to think of a _gay_ version of himself, not just... heteroflexible or whatever the hell he was with Bones sometimes. And gay with  Spock, of all people. Not that there was anything wrong with that! But it had better not be some kind of multiversal destiny. Except maybe for a threesome involving Uhura. That would be pretty okay. Hard to see how it would happen without truly heroic consumption of alcohol.

Bones came over and perched on the arm of his easy-chair. 'You look a little stunned,' he said quietly. 'Doin' okay?'

'I'm fine. You?'

'Well, I've just established that old alternate-universe Spock is just as smug and annoying as original recipe Spock. And the most annoying thing in any universe is _two_ Spocks backing each other up and smirking.'

'I'd say let's get outta here and find a bar, but what are our chances?'

'Somewhere between poor and piss poor,' Bones said with a little grin. 'But I've got your back if you've got mine. And at least you found a new girlfriend.' He rubbed the little dog's ears.

'Yeah, she's kind of a bitch, though.' He grinned back, and felt a sudden, surprising impluse to kiss Bones while fully sober and dressed. The whale painting must be getting to him.

Kirk came galumphing down the stairs, having changed into a crossover-front sweater thing and black pants. Minnie jumped out of Jim's lap and ran over to sit on his feet, and he felt mildly rejected.

'Dinner will be on the table in five minutes,' he announced proudly. 'There's plenty of vegetarian stuff for the Spocks, but please tell me you boys will eat some turkey.'

'Gladly, sir,' said Bones.

'How about you, Uhura? I'm sorry, I'm calling you Uhura without thinking, because that's what I always called our Uhura. Would you prefer Nyota? They're both beautiful names.'

'Uhura is fine,' she said, smiling up at him. 'And I'm really looking forward to the turkey.' Jim watched with baffled irritation. How was fat, gay, old Jim Kirk charming her when young, fit, clearly straight and interested in her Jim Kirk just pissed her off? Was it one of those things where women loved gay guys because they seemed non-threatening or they identified with them or something? Did she feel like she and the old fart had something in common because they were both screwing/being screwed by some version of Spock? Aw, damn it, she looked so pretty with her big gold hoopy earrings and her hair in a braid hanging over her shoulder. You could grab that braid and pull her in to kiss her. Spock probably had.

'Come on through and let's get you all set up,' Kirk was saying, herding them all through to the dining area again. 'Bring your drinks, there's more where that came from.'

The table was laid with crisp white linen, blue-and-white china and shining silver. Quietly assisted by Spock and hindered by the dogs and sehlats, Kirk started bringing out dishes from the kitchen, all the most quintessential Thanksgiving food imaginable, green beans, yams, squash, mashed potatoes, cornbread, corn on the cob, cranberry sauce, two kinds of gravy, three kinds of stuffing, and finally a turkey like something out of a Norman Rockwell painting. It was like the food fantasies you would have as a kid, Jim thought, before you graduated to sex fantasies. Bones was looking at it like he'd never given up those fantasies.

Then there was the whole ritual of loading the plates, ascertaining which part of the bird each person wanted, somehow fitting everything onto the dishes, the debate over whether Bones could legitimately put stuffing on his bread-and-butter plate, and somehow over the course of that Jim forgot that he was unhappy or irritated about anything.

'Okay, everyone,' Kirk said. 'Before we all dive into this sumptuous feast that I have prepared with the sweat of my brow, now would be a good time to go round the table and mention something we're thankful for. I believe I can start us off. I'm grateful to be alive and well, with the one I love beside me. There's nothing else I really need.' He reached across the table to pat the elder Spock's hand, smiling at him fondly.

'I can only echo that sentiment,' elder-Spock said, then quietly added 'T'hyla.' That turned up the wattage on Kirk's smile until he almost shone. The next around the table was Bones, who simply said 'I'm grateful for good food, good friends and fresh starts.' He was followed by Uhura, who held her Spock's hand and said a blessing in Swahili.

'I am grateful for the opportunity to serve,' Spock said, 'and grateful for the support of those around me which enables me to do so.' Uhura gave him a look only marginally less mushy than Kirk's earlier one for the other Spock.

That left Jim. 'I'm grateful to be the captain of the best damn ship with the best damn crew in the galaxy,' he said firmly. 'Now let's eat.'

Whereupon they all ate until they couldn't move.

Later they found room for dessert.

* * *

Eventually, when the effects of dessert had begun to abate, they repaired to the living room, while Kirk cleared up in the kitchen, saying that if anyone cared that he used his dogs as plate-rinsing machines, they should just bear in mind that the dishwasher in this kitchen was like a damn autoclave and stop worrying so much.

'All that gravy can't be good for dogs,' Bones said, slumping into an armchair and surreptitiously loosening his belt.

'That didn't stop you making a lake of it in your potatoes,' Uhura pointed out cheerfully.

'Well, ma'am, I am not a dog, and those were some of the best mashed potatoes I ever ate.' He cast a bilious eye on Mara, who had lumbered over to rest her head on his knee and saturate his pants leg with drool. 'Hey baby.' She uttered a low rumble and plopped her hindquarters onto the rug. 'Sir, does she like me or does she want to eat me? It could be important later.'

'I believe she likes you,' elder-Spock said. 'Mara is somewhat indiscriminate in her affections.' He went to a cupboard and brought out a Vulcan lute, which he sat tuning in an upright chair by the fireplace. After a while he began to pick out a gentle tune, and Uhura, who was sitting with her legs tucked up on the sofa, leaning against Spock, began to hum a harmony.

Elder-Spock cast a curious glance at her. 'I have been wondering why you don't sing the lyrics,' he said.

'I don't know them. I never heard that tune before.'

'I had not thought to investigate. Was "Beyond Antares" never a hit in this universe?'

'I never heard of it.'

'Strange. It is a standard in ours. While I find the lyrical content somewhat nonsensical, it was the song I was most frequently requested to play in the Enterprise mess hall - and a favourite of your analogue in our universe.'

'Is she - was she a lot like me?'

'She was somewhat heavier than you, and wore her hair shorter. Like you, she was intelligent, brave and beautiful, with an excellent voice and ear for music. I taught her to play the lute.'

'Did she get married, or have children?'

'No. Like many in Starfleet, she devoted herself entirely to her career. I do not think she would have been averse to marriage, but never found a suitable partner. It is difficult for an extraordinary woman to find one.'

'Wow. Sounds like you had a little crush on her,' Jim said. He was lying in an armchair fighting the feeling that if he burped, which he very much wanted to do, he would throw up a little.

'I had a great regard for her as a colleague and a friend,' the old man replied calmly.

'We all did,' said Kirk, returning from the kitchen and plumping himself down at the other end of the couch. 'But, like Spock has kept reminding me, the way her life worked out doesn't have any bearing on how yours will. Maybe you'll have half a dozen kids. Or maybe you'll make Admiral.'

'I like the sound of that,' she said, grinning.

'Well, it's not all it's cracked up to be; I made Admiral and probably the best thing that happened to me after that was getting busted back to Captain.'

'Really? How?'

'Oh, it's a long story. A long story - to tell it properly I'd have to go back and tell you all about the Khan.'

'Go on. We'd love to hear it.'

'I would be interested,' Spock said, backing her up.

'Am I in this story?' Bones asked from the depths of his chair, where he had given up and undone his belt and top button altogether. 'I mean, other me?'

'You play an absolutely critical role.'

'Then I wanna hear too. Especially if I did anything really cool.'

'All right. Well, bear with me, because it'll take a while to become clear where I'm going with this. I guess our story really begins back on Earth, in the bad old days, the 1990s, and the Eugenics Wars.'

* * *

It was a long story, but since nobody had the strength to move, they didn't mind staying still to hear it. Kirk told it well, too, with lots of expression and dramatic pauses, and after a while, smiling to himself, elder-Spock began improvising incidental music to go with whatever he was telling about. Jim started to feel weirdly like he was in Rivendell or something. The story wound on, and he grew drowsy. When Kirk reached the part where his son died, elder-Spock stopped playing and watched him closely. Although there were tears in his eyes, he kept going, and composed himself before too long. Oddly, he hadn't been so verklempt when describing how his Spock had died, but then, he'd got _him_ back.  


The weird thing about the whole story, to Jim, was all the women Kirk kept getting involved with, and yet he'd been with Spock the whole time. Open relationship? Cheating ass, repeatedly forgiven? Not completely and totally gay after all? He kind of wanted someone to call him out on that, but it would have to be someone in less of a tryptophan coma. Minnie was curled up in his lap again and he kind of wanted to keep her. Maybe he should get a mini-pin of his own; a small dog would be okay on a starship, wouldn't it? Like Admiral Archer... maybe it could be a thing, a dog on a ship called _Enterprise..._  


By the time the whole story was told it was late, late at night, Bones was asleep in his chair and Jim was close to it.  


'Thank you so much for a wonderful day,' Uhura said. 'We really should get going. Spock, do you think you can wake those two up?'  


'M'awake,' Jim mumbled. 'Just checkin' my eyelids for holes.'  


'Oh, come on. Stay over. We've got room for you, and why get all woken up again and bother Scotty for nothing?' Kirk coaxed her until she agreed that yes, they would stay over.  


Jim poked Bones into an approximation of consciousness and helped him up the stairs, where Kirk showed them into a room with twin beds.  


'You fellas be okay in here?' he asked. 'I figured the lovebirds would want the double.'  


'Yeah. Thanks, sir.'  


'If there's anything you need, just help yourselves, okay? Wake me if you can't find it, but don't worry about asking permission. Bathroom's down the hall on the right. Good night.' He closed the door behind him and creaked off down the hall.  


Jim more or less put Bones to bed, taking his shoes and pants and jacket off and tucking him in. He went to the bathroom, and came back to find Bones had moved over to the bed he'd thought was going to be his. Shrugging, he undressed to his boxers and started to get into the other one.  


'No,' Bones mumbled. 'Over here.' He extended one arm from beneath the covers and waved him over.  


'What for?'  


'Wanna sleep beside you so Spock can't sneak in and put his soul in me.'  


'Spock is not gonna sneak in here and put his soul in you,' Jim said. 'And single beds were made for one.'  


'So push the other one over here and make a double.'  


'Are you gonna let me sleep if I don't?'  


'Nup.'  


'Okay, but I'm taking this out on you somehow later.' He moved the bed as quietly as he could. Fortunately there was a thick rug on the floor and it was relatively light. He got in next to Bones and made sure he had his share of the covers. Bones rolled over and spooned up to him.  


'Just so you know,' he told the back of Jim's neck, 'I'm too full to fuck. In fact I think if you tried I'd definitely throw up on you.'  


'Well thank you for that warning. I wasn't actually going to try. Go to sleep, Bones.'  


'I'm thankful for my good friend Jim who sucks and fucks me when I'm feeling lonely.'  


'Are you trying to get me in the mood or talking in your sleep?'  


'I'm just thankful is all.'  


'You're welcome.'  


'Tell me a story.'  


'Oh, come on.'  


'It'll make me go back to sleep.'  


'All right. What story?'  


'Tell me about you and me. How it got started.'  


'Uh... you mean, when I was on the shuttle to go to the Academy, and you got hauled out of the toilet pitching a fit?'  


'No. How _this_ got started. Tell me over again.' Bones squeezed his waist and snuggled closer to his back.  


'You're in a weird mood tonight.'  


'Tell it. You don't have to do my voice though.'  


'Okay... we were a couple of weeks into our first year at the Academy, weren't we?'  


'About a month, I think.'  


'Okay... and we were in your dorm room one night because your roomie was sick in the infirmary, so you said come over and we'll get drunk and talk shit for hours.'  


'And you for once didn't have a date, so you said yes.'  


'Who's telling this?'  


'Me now.'  


'Okay. No skin off my nose.'  


'So we got drunk and talked shit for hours,' Bones went on. 'Your turn again.'  


'And you got maudlin, and you were talking about your damn ex-wife, and how you didn't miss her but god damn you missed the sex, especially the angry sex, and the blowjobs, and you hadn't had a blowjob in about a million years...'  


'And you said for God's sake, Bones, _I'll_ blow you if you'll shut the fuck up.'  


'And you went _REALLY?_ and your eyes bugged.'  


'And you said fuck no, and you tackled me, and we wrestled... and I was hard, and you were hard, and our bodies were bumping and grinding together... and you kissed me so hard you just about split my damn lip.'  


'And I guess I did blow you after all. And it was the beginning of a beautiful fuckbuddyship.'  


'Mm. I like that story.'  


'It's no "How We Saved the Whales and Saved the World".'  


'Maybe we'll save some other whales. Cuter whales.' He nuzzled at the back of Jim's neck and ran his hand down over his belly into his lap.  


'I thought you were too full to fuck.'  


'No-one's ever too full for a handjob.'  


'Mm. Okay.' He closed his eyes and let Bones have his way. 'Hey...'  


'Mm?'  


'Do you think you're gay? I mean, all the way gay? "That's why your marriage didn't work out" gay?'  


'Hell if I know.'  


'Well, you weren't exactly getting laid at the Academy... and the one time I knew about was a dude, that Dax guy...'  


'That doesn't count, Trills are kind of unisex. He said I had a surgeon's hands - what do you think?'  


'I think that sounds like you would be operating on my dick, not rubbing it and making it feel good.'  


'I promise never to operate without a sound medical reason.' Bones was rubbing his own erection against Jim's butt, sighing happily. 'Cause I love your dick just exactly how it is.'  


'Thanks. I like yours too.' He rolled over and returned the favour, stroking through Bones' underwear at first before pulling it out and milking the shaft.  


'Ohh... fuck,' Bones whispered.  


'Good?'  


_' So_ good.'  


'Iowa farmboy hands. Trained in the cow barn.'  


'You never milked a cow in your life, you fuckin' liar.'  


'Maybe I milked a bull, what do you say to that?'  


'Moo.'  


That made him laugh, and he'd never thought before Bones that you could laugh while having sex and it wouldn't ruin it, it would only make it better. He thought that earned a kiss, which reminded him exactly how good Bones' mouth felt, which made up his mind about what they were doing next.  


'Okay, sixty-nine on the double.'  


'Aye captain.'  


'Shaddap.' He squirmed round and down under the covers, nuzzled in between Bones' thighs and filled his mouth, cupping his balls as he sucked. Then he was in Bones' mouth and just about melting with joy, moaning and grunting as he edged and surged closer to perfect. Sometimes when he was down here with his mouth full of cock and his head between two strong hairy thighs and high on the smell of hot sweaty man, yes, he could concede that he really might be a little bit gay. He grabbed Bones' rump with his free hand just for the pleasure of feeling how round and firm it was. Now Bones was straining against him, panting hard and fast and shuddering. Clearly he was getting close. Jim lifted his head a moment, licked his middle finger, and pushed it firmly into his friend's ass. He was rewarded with a joyful yelp and a hot spray of spunk over his neck and chest.  


He let Bones catch his breath for a moment before pinching his butt. 'Come on. You have a job to do, mister. Get me off.'  


'O-okay.' Jim loved that shake in his voice. He lay in the hot dark of the bed and let his mind go blank with pleasure, nothing but the stars bursting in his head as a glorious orgasm rolled through him. He fell asleep down there, and woke up not knowing where he was.  


After a moment's thought, the smell of sweat and spunk and the presence of a soft, warm cock pressed against his cheek cleared up that uncertainty. Slightly stuck to his cheek, actually. How affectionate. He peeled it away and resurfaced. Bones was fast asleep and snoring very softly. Jim lay beside him and thought, _this guy is sort of my boyfriend, if I really dig down and admit it. He's crabby and he has kind of a hairy ass and he cares way too much about the Rebels. He has beautiful eyes and he knows about all my family shit. He'll only take off that clunky pinky ring of his to do surgery. Once I took it off while he was sleeping and hid it and he got seriously mad at me. His drink's a mint julep. How many times did we have lunch in Chinatown? He still can't use chopsticks. How many times has he told an angry girl 'He's not here right now' while I hid in the bathroom? How many times has he taken care of me when I had a hangover, even though he felt like shit himself?_  


Bones rolled over in his sleep and laid an arm over Jim's chest. The snore stopped now that he was off his back and his breathing became soft and even, his face slack and relaxed, mouth slightly open. Jim nudged his chin up with his finger, then became quietly absorbed playing with his lower lip, making it go 'wibb.'  


Eventually that woke Bones, and he told Jim to fuck off, and Jim told him to fuck off in return, and they kissed and everything was all right.  


'Know how I know I'm nuts?' Bones said drowsily.  


'How?'  


'I want to sneak downstairs and get another slice of that really good chocolate cream pie.'  


'You're gonna get a fat ass.'  


'More cushion for the pushin'.'  


'Pff!'  


'You wanna?'  


'Maybe if I get my pants back on. I know he said we could help ourselves but I bet that didn't include naked fridge raiding.'

'Oh, yeah. I mean it's important to have these boundaries when stealing food from your older alternate self.' Bones sat up and hitched his underwear back up.

'Of course. We have principles.'

'And ethics. Lots of 'em.'

They crept through the hall and down the stairs, as silently as they could while moving through an unfamiliar house, shushing each other. At one point Bones bumped into a large vase and they both attempted to grab it before it could fall and smash, and folded over each other in silent wheezy laughter. A creak from overhead made them freeze, and the sound of heavy footsteps on the stairs sent them into hiding behind the couch. Fortunately, it was only one of the sehlats. I-Kufu put his snout over the back of the couch, snuffed at them disdainfully, and lumbered on to the kitchen, where he lapped loudly at a dish of water before returning upstairs.

They perched on kitchen chairs eating gluttonously large slices of chocolate cream pie in the dark.  


'If we lived here, I _would_ get a fat ass,' Bones admitted, licking his fork. 'Think we can come back for Christmas?'

'I think by Christmas we'll be a long way away.'

'Too bad.'  


'I mean, I could try to make you dinner, but it'd be like... synthesized turkey on toast.'  


'Aw, baby, you'd make _toast_ for me?'

'Things just got weird.'  


'Weird how?' Bones asked with his mouth full.  


'Calling me baby.'  


'In sarcasm.' He swallowed. 'Want me to call you assface and make it better?'  


'No, just... let's not go in that direction. It's a weird direction.'  


'I didn't ask you to get my name tattooed on your ass. Although it would balance things out. Left cheek, Starfleet insignia, right cheek, Property of Leonard McCoy.'  


'Seriously, can you not hear me telling you don't go there?'  


'I. Am. Kidding. Jesus. Eat your pie.'

  
\--  
  
They were woken early the next morning by a stampede of dogs going downstairs to be fed, toenails clicking on the steps and the two male dogs' deep 'wurf's contrasting with Minnie's higher 'wuff's. Not long after that came Kirk's voice, carolling up the stairs, 'Kids! Breakfast in ten!'

_'Kids,'_ Bones repeated, rolling over and scrubbing at his eyes. 'That guy's kind of an empty nester.'

'His son died. You think he's looking for replacements?' Jim sat up beside him.  


'Hell if I know. I was wondering if this was some kind of match-making effort to put you and Spock together. To be honest that's half of why I came. To spare you the awkwardness.'  


'You thought they'd want us to get together because they're together?'  


'I just... wondered. But they seem to be fine about him and Uhura, so I guess they don't care.'  


'We... should probably put the beds back how they were.'

They went downstairs in their crumpled yesterday's clothes to be confronted by more breakfast than they knew what to do with. Uhura and both Spocks were virtuously eating some kind of cereal while Kirk defiantly fried pancakes.

'You boys will eat a _real_ breakfast, right?' he said, pulling out a dish stacked with bacon and sausages that had been keeping warm in the oven. 'How do you want your eggs?'

'Yes, sir,' Bones said promptly. 'Over medium, please.'  


'I think I'll stick to cereal, thanks.'  


'And you call yourself a Kirk? What would your father say?'  


'Not a lot, considering he died about the time I was born,' Jim said shortly.  


'Oh,' Kirk said, taken aback. 'My father lived into his nineties. I'm sorry to hear that.' He paused, twiddling his spatula. 'He always made breakfast for the family on weekends and holidays. That was... what I was going for.'  


'That's okay. You couldn't know.' He filled a bowl from the ceramic jar of cereal on the kitchen table and poured fruit juice over it.  


'Is... your mother okay? And Sam?'  


'They're fine. Mom's back in Iowa. Sam's bumming around the Solar System as usual. He's never really figured out what he's gonna do.'  


'Really? My Sam was always kind of the good boy. Very smart in school. He became a research biologist. I wouldn't have worked as hard as I did if I wasn't always trying to prove I could keep up with Sammy.' Kirk twirled the spatula again, looking uncomfortable. 'Listen... if you think it'd be any help, maybe I could talk to him? Try and encourage him, tell him about his potential?'  


'Your pancake is burning,' the elder Spock pointed out. 'I believe it is inadvisable for us to attempt too much guidance of lives in this universe. There is so little of which we can be certain beyond the point of divergence. Perhaps a different path in life will benefit this version of Sam Kirk in ways that we cannot anticipate.'  


'Has he met Aurelan, though?' Kirk asked, dropping the burnt pancake into the mouth of a waiting dog. 'He always said she kept him grounded.'  


'Man, I don't know who he meets,' Jim said. 'Much less hooks up with. Listen, I appreciate your good intentions, but I think you should stay out of it. It's not your family.'  


'No. Of course not,' Kirk said quietly. 'Sorry to keep you waiting, Bones, I'm going to get those eggs started now.'

\--

Before they left, Bones managed to get the elder Spock alone for a minute, by pretending to want to know more about sehlats. While the old man was showing him Mara's dentition out in the back yard, he lowered his voice and said quickly 'Listen, sir, can I ask you something confidentially? I know you may not want to answer, because if you're anything like our Spock you're - a private person,' (he had to mentally edit that from 'tight-lipped sonofabitch') 'but I really need to ask.'  


'You may ask,' Spock said guardedly. He let the animal's droopy lip fall back against her teeth and occupied his hands with her ears.  


'It's just... when you and your Captain Kirk started your... relationship, did you have any difficulty getting him to acknowledge that's what it was? A relationship? Did he resist that?'  


'No,' Spock said, sounding very mildly surprised. 'In fact, it was I who resisted it. It took a long time for me to be able to accept that I felt such strong emotions where he was concerned, and to reconcile them with my sense of self. I went back and forth in my decisions over the years, and attempted Kolinahr.'  


_'Suicide?'_ Bones asked, alarmed.  


'Nothing of the kind. I would recommend that you try to educate yourself about Vulcan culture more than your counterpart did. It is a philosophical discipline that involves the complete elimination of emotion. I was unable to reach that standard because, in truth, I did not want to. I wanted Jim more. However I resisted it, and however I reasoned with myself, that simple feeling remained.' He bent his head towards Bones' and spoke more quietly. 'Your Jim and mine are different in many ways, but I believe they have the same capacity for love. Yours needs time to mature and experience to season him. I am aware of your difficulties. You too are ambivalent about the "relationship." Be patient, and be grateful for what you have.'  


'I'll try,' Bones said. He scratched the sehlat's head. 'Thanks. For everything.'  


* * *

When 'the kids' had gone, Jim went into a kind of productive sulk that involved a lot of cleaning up, storing leftovers and stripping beds.

'The dogs will need to be exercised, too,' Spock reminded him as he put together his documents for the day's work.

'Can I get your opinion on something, baby?' Kirk asked over an armful of sheets. 'Little Jim. Am I overreacting, or is he a snotty little jackass?'

Spock gave him one of those expressive shrugs of his. 'I saw potential in him.'

'I was never like that, was I?'

'Not entirely.'

'Not _entirely?_ Oh, well, thank you, thank you  very much.'


End file.
